


Learn to Respect Rank

by dashakay



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashakay/pseuds/dashakay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laura is a dirty girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learn to Respect Rank

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that that this story includes elements that not everyone may be comfortable reading, although it is _not_ non-con (or even dub-con) and no Adamas or Roslins were harmed in the making of this story.

She returns to _Colonial One_ after the reception for the new Tauron Quorum delegate. She's flushed, giddy, and frankly, just a little tipsy. Since her exile in the stars began, she's hardly touched a drop of alcohol, and two glasses of delightfully dry white wine have gone to her head. She finds herself weaving as she makes her way to her quarters.

Gods, she feels good. She wonders if she'll ever become accustomed to the new energy coursing through her body. No longer does she wake up coughing, plagued by aches and pains. She's infatuated with this giddy rush of health. She'd like to dance, to twirl under the stars. She wants to paint her toenails bright red. Lately, she's been so hungry—craving leafy green salads, dense chocolate cake, spicy chicken soup flush with chilies and dark bread slathered with butter. All the things she can no longer find here in the vast depths of space.

Her nightgown on, she flops onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. It's another in an endless series of nights spent alone. It pains her to think that the last hands that touched her, really touched her, were Adar's. She could have done better. She _should_ have done better.

She knows all too well whose hands she wants to touch her right now. Adama's hands, large and strong. She imagines them warm, as warm as his lips the time he too briefly kissed her. His hands sliding up her nightgown the way her own hands are doing now, lazily journeying from her thigh along the curve of her hip and waist, coming to rest at her breast. Her breast, whole and healthy now.

If only she could get on the wireless and imperiously order him to _Colonial One_. Frak duty and frak decorum. She would lie back and watch him unbutton his uniform, maybe even help him undo his trousers. And she'd feel the weight of his solid body against her.

If wishes were horses, I'd have an entire stable of racehorses, she thinks. Her nipple hardens under her fingertips. No, _Bill's_ fingertips. It's Bill's hands stroking her breasts, delving between her legs. She's not alone in her bed, touching herself. Tonight is the night and finally she will have him.

Bill's cock hardens in her palm. She wants it in her mouth—to claim him, make him hers. Perhaps he's always been hers, in a way, at least since the night she pinned him with admiral's stars. And she, who has never truly belonged to any man, is his. A frightening thought, to be sure, but so it is.

She's always in charge. She makes the tough decisions and rarely looks back. She wields authority with the stroke of a pen, speeches at press conferences, threats of the airlock. Tonight she wants to relinquish that control and give it to him. She wants to be taken.

He rolls onto his back, his cock proudly hard. "Suck it," he orders, his voice sandpaper and whiskey.

"Yes, _sir_," she says, a little facetiously.

"Don't give me any guff, Roslin," he says. "Just do as you're told."

Salt against her tongue, the delicious taste of a man. Bill guides her with his hands clamped on either side of her head, urging her to suck him harder. With one hand she cups and squeezes his balls while his cock moves in and out of her mouth. Lords, she's getting so wet doing this. She can't wait to have him inside her, to be frakked into oblivion.

Suddenly, Bill pushes her head away. "Stop," he commands. She lifts her head and looks at him through her hair.

"On your hands and knees," he says with military crispness. "Now."

She's not going to argue with an order like that. His voice means business. She scrabbles into position.

"Hmm," he says. She feels him move to the end of the bed, senses his eyes on her. He's examining every angle of her body. It seems somehow embarrassing to have him appraise her like that. Bill pinches her ass and follows it with a light smack. "You like that, don't you?"

She nods, her eyes closed.

"I think you need some more," he growls and slaps her behind harder. Once, twice, three times. Stinging warmth spreads across her bottom.

Bill's fingers brush her curls. "You're so wet. Is that for me?"

She nods again.

"I didn't hear you, Laura. Are you wet for me?" The edge to his voice makes her shiver.

"Yes, sir," she says, her voice loud and clear.

"Such a pretty little cunt. So pink and slick. I'll bet you'd like me to lick it, wouldn't you?"

She hears herself say, "Yes, sir."

"You probably want me to suck on that swollen clit of yours."

"Oh, yes."

"_Sir_," he demands. "You need to learn to respect rank."

She doesn't bother to remind him that, technically, she outranks him. "Yes, sir."

The warm wetness of his tongue slides between her folds. It explores each and every crevice of her pussy with sweeping strokes. A moan escapes her lips at the sensation.

She hears him say, "Don't make a sound or I'll stop what I'm doing. Understand?"

She has to bite her bottom lip as his tongue finds her clitoris. He seems to know precisely the right amount of pressure to apply as he circles it. She feels almost lightheaded as all the blood in her body seems to rush straight to the blood vessels of her clit to feed the greedy 8,000 nerve endings there. It's hard to believe, but she's close, so damn close already.

Bill stops and she feels the mattress shifting under his weight. "You're not going to come yet, Laura. Not until I say you can."

She nods. He's in charge, at least for tonight. She'll do what he says.

"I think a dirty, bossy girl like you needs a good, hard frakking," he says. "Don't you?"

"Oh, yes," she breathes, her cunt twitching at the thought.

"Tell me you need it."

"I need it," she echoes.

"What exactly do you need?"

"I need a good, hard frakking," she says. Her mouth is dry.

"And who do you want to frak you?"

She spreads her legs wider for him. "I need _you_ to frak me, sir. Please frak me." She's on her hands and knees, head hanging down, begging a man to frak her. She's almost, but not quite ashamed.

"That's a good girl," he says with a slight chuckle. She feels him move up against her, warm skin touching her own. Her hips are already rotating as if he's already inside her.

Bill slides his cock inside her so slowly she wants to scream. It's incredibly thick and she almost feels as if she could split in two.

"I'm going to frak you hard, Laura. I hope you're ready."

"Yes, sir," she mumbles. She's never been more ready for anything in her life.

He grasps her hips with strong fingers, so hard she's certain she'll have fingertip bruises in the morning. Bill fraks her with long strokes, surprisingly gentle at first, but after a few minutes he seems to warm to the task and begins thrusting into her with all his might, almost knocking her off her knees. She doesn't have the proper words how good it feels to have him sliding in and out of her, to be full of him. She can't help but moan, a long, low keening.

"I told you to keep your mouth shut," he says, sounding exasperated. He stills inside her. "Don't you know how to obey?"

"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"Your lack of obedience disturbs me. You need to learn to properly submit."

"Hmm...What can I do for you, sir?" All she wants is for him to frak her again. Every nerve in her body is crying out for it.

"You need to be frakked in the ass."

The breath catches in her throat. "But, sir..."

"Shut up. It's an order."

She feels him withdraw from her. His fingers dip inside her cunt for a moment and then she hears some rustling.

"This is what a dirty girl like you needs. A good ass-frakking to bring you in line."

She'll admit that she's scared. She's never let a man do this to her. She's never dared.

The head of his cock presses insistently against her asshole. She's sure she's no longer breathing, waiting for him to come inside, wondering how much it will hurt. And then he slowly begins pushing his way inside. Yes, it does indeed hurt, a slow burn, but the pain feels cleansing, as if she's finally paying for her many sins.

"Look at you," Bill mutters. "You run around all day in your suit and heels, ordering everyone around. You think you're in charge of everything. But here you are, you dirty whore, letting yourself be frakked in the ass."

At any other time in her life, she'd probably deck a guy who'd dare talk to her like that, but she's loving it. She's not the president tonight, she _is_ a dirty whore. She's his dirty whore for the night. He's frakking her with total gusto now, and it still burns, but it also feels amazing. She never realized there were so many nerve endings in her ass. It feels wonderfully different from being frakked in the pussy.

Bill's hands squeeze her breasts. She can't help it, she _has_ to moan, to let it all out. She tips her head back and howls at the moon.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill grunts. His hand snakes around and finds her clit. She gasps at the electric sensation.

"You're been a good girl," he says, his voice a bit softer. "I think I might let you come now." He strokes her clit in time to his thrusts.

"O Athena, o Aphrodite," she hears herself moaning. And just then, Bill's hand slaps against her ass with incredible force. Oh, frak, she's coming now, surge after surge of electric pleasure that begins in her clit but rapidly spreads up her spine and out to every limb. It's never felt like this before.

Behind her, Bill suddenly shouts something unintelligible and she feels him frantically bucking against her, his cock now driving into her ass with almost crushing force. Yes, she thinks in triumph.

And then she opens her eyes and she's no longer in bed with Bill, she's all alone. Again. Her hand is at her clit and she's breathing hard. She pushes damp hair out of her eyes.

Alone. Of course she is.

She giggles a little, thinking of the fantasy she conjured up. In reality, she can't imagine Bill saying or doing half the things she had him doing in her mind.

Laura sits up in bed and before she has a chance to think about it, she's on the wireless to _Galactica_. "I need to speak with Admiral Adama, on a secure channel," she says.

In a few moments, he's on the line. "Is everything all right, Madam President?" he asks.

"I have something to discuss with you," she says. "Something of utmost importance. Would you be able to come to _Colonial One_ right now?"

"I just got off duty," he says. "I can be there in twenty minutes."

She hangs up the wireless and glances at the clock. Twenty minutes. Gods, she can hardly wait. She goes to the head to brush her mussed hair, wondering about one important issue. Will Bill prefer to give the orders or to receive them? Only time will tell, she thinks, dreamily running the hairbrush through her hair. Only time will tell.

END


End file.
